Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4) (6 page)

Stacy
sipped her wine. “So what will you do while I’m recording?”

“This
and that.” Adam’s cell phone buzzed. He checked the screen, then ignored it. “Message
from my mother.”

“Do
you want to check it?”

He
shook his head. “I know what she wants.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She
wants me to bring you to meet the family. Don’t worry, that’s not going to
happen.”

Stacy’s
mood dived. “Why not?”

Adam
put down his slice of pizza. “They all want to believe that there is more to us
working together than a business arrangement.” His mouth twisted into a wry
smile. “I’ve told them they’re mistaken, but my mother is the most romantic
woman on the planet. She’s bound to interfere and try to matchmake.”

She
took a deep breath. “Well, there is more to us than a business arrangement. I
think this morning proved that.”

“Maybe
this morning was a mistake.”

“Maybe
it wasn’t.” The wine was giving her courage, so she swallowed another mouthful.

*****

Uh-oh.
He knew that look. Recognized immediately that gleam in her eye. She’d had a
good day, and Stacy’s response to a good day had always been to celebrate.
Remembering just exactly what celebrating with Stacy entailed made him feel hot
all over. Hot, and acutely aware of every little thing about her. The way she
dipped her head and peeked at him from under her lashes, the way she
straightened her back and steepled her hands on the table, enhancing her
cleavage.

She
flicked back her hair and chewed on her bottom lip.

Once
upon a time he’d have read ‘take me home to bed’ in that body language, but now
he needed to be sure.

So
he stretched his legs out under the table, letting the inside of one ankle
brush against hers.

She
gasped, and at the same moment her eyes widened.

“Do
you want some dessert?” He pitched his voice deep, the way she’d often
confessed she found sexy as hell. He stared at her mouth.

“I…uh…”
She dropped her hands onto the table, and a flush swept into her cheeks. “I don’t
think so.”

“Coffee?”
He reachedacross the table and covered her hand with his own.

“Maybe
we could just get some back at the house.” She flipped her hand and laced her
fingers through his.

They
left the restaurant still hand in hand, as though it was the most natural thing
in the world. When they reached the car, he backed her against the car door,
and bracketed her with his arms.

Looking
into her eyes, seeing the awareness in their depths wove a connection through
his body, deep and familiar. The tip of her tongue touched her top lip. Quick
and nervous. Anticipating.

What
the hell. He was tired of fighting it. Unable to formulate a reason why he
shouldn’t kiss her. His mouth lowered and claimed hers.

She
tasted of wine. Of woman. With a sigh, she propelled herself from resting on
the car to press her body against his. Her arms rose and urgent fingers speared
through his hair.

The
kiss deepened. He breathed in the scent of her hair and surrendered to the
sensations being so close to her brought alive. Everything faded, except the
woman in his arms. When they finally came up for air, both were breathing
heavily.

“Let’s
go home.”

Hearing
her refer to his home as hers felt strange, but right.

With
a nod, he opened the door, then walked around the car to climb into the driver’s
seat.

She
placed a hand on his thigh.

He
started the engine.

“So
you don’t think I’m plotting revenge anymore?” His voice was soft in the car’s
darkened interior.

“No.
I reckon whatever’s happening between us is out of both of our controls.”

A
wistful smile was on her face. “We should just go with it. See where it takes
us.” Her hand stroked the soft fabric of his jeans, and he resisted the urge to
rev the accelerator and speed them to his house.

“You’re
so damned sexy,” she murmured huskily. “I can’t wait to see your new muscles up
close and personal.”

His
body reacted to her words, and he shifted slightly in the car seat, in a vain
attempt to ease the pressure behind his jean’s zipper. “You noticed?” His body
had become buffer, harder, due to the boxing regimen he’d adopted to deal with
the constant feeling of frustration and anger at the helplessness that had
overwhelmed him about their divorce. He’d done everything possible to contact
her after she’d frozen him out. He’d written letters, had visited her
apartment, but been refused entry by security. He’d even pleaded with Apollo to
let him talk to her. The path back from obsession had been a long and tortuous
one—if he wasn’t careful, he could fall back into loving her. Wanting her.

The
only solution was to indulge this crazy attraction—to feed the beast until it
was so sated that she was forever burned out of his system. She was lonely. She
needed a man’s arms around her, and there was no other man for the job. The
mere thought of Stacy with someone else drove him out of his mind, but when she’d
finished the voice over, and it was time for her to return to Nashville, he
wouldn’t follow her.

This
time he was playing with fire and not getting fried in the process.

“I
noticed.”

He
shot her a glance. “What?”

“Did
you forget I was complimenting your body?” She grinned. “It’s pretty normal to
return the favor, you know. You could tell me how smokin’ hot I am.”

“Yeah,
as if I’d need to do that,” he teased. “You’ve always been gorgeous, and you
know it.”

“Huh.”

“You
pouting?” He kept his attention on the road. “I don’t want to tell you how
beautiful you are. I want to show you. I want to touch you all over. With my
hands, and my lips. I could never forget anything about your body, and the
things you like me to do to it. When we get home, I’m replaying every single
erotic experience we ever had. And adding some new stuff.”

“New
stuff?” Her voice was high and breathy. Turned on.

“New
stuff.” He nodded, and gripped the wheel tighter. There were months of fantasy
sex to catch up on, and he knew exactly where to start.

“What
new stuff?” Her hand stroked the inside of his thigh. “Stuff you did with other
women?”

He
turned off the main road, down the lane that led to the cottage. “Enough
talking.” He slowed the engine, and stared into her eyes. “More action.”

She
breathed in. Shifted her hand to press against his cock. “Is that enough action
for you?”

He
groaned. “It’s a good start. Hold that thought, baby, we’re nearly home.”

With
gritted teeth, he turned into the driveway. “Oh, crap.”

Chapter Seven

A
navy Volkswagon Golf was parked haphazardly before the front door. The lights
were visible inside the house, and the drapes they’d left open were closed.

“My
parents.”

His
parents? Stacy’s hand shot from the front of her ex-husband’s jeans at the
thought of her never met, ex-in-laws. “They’re here? Were you expecting…
”

“Of course not.” He cranked
open the window and gulped in lungfuls of fresh air. Then patted his pockets to
find his cell phone. “There’s a surprise for you at the cottage, hurry home!”
he read. “Oh, god.”

“I thought they lived miles
away.”

“They do. Knowing Ma, she probably
thought since it was Friday, and we’ll not be working this weekend, it would be
the perfect time for a surprise visit.”

What on earth would she have
to say to two strangers she’d never met? Adam’s parents, who must hate her guts
for the way she’d treated their son? A feeling of dread settled in her stomach.
Were they here to give her a piece of their minds, in a bitchslap of epic
proportions?

“Maybe you should just drive
back into town and drop me at a hotel. I don’t want to get in the way of a
family reunion.” If his mother was anything like hers, she sure didn’t want to
get in the way of any flying plates.

“No. No. That won’t work—they
must have seen the lights when we drove in.” As if to prove his theory the
front door swung wide and light spilled onto the gravel.

“Adam!” A woman launched
herself from the threshold, waving her arms wildly. The smile on her face was
so wide, creases bracketed her mouth and made her eyes appear smaller. Before
Stacy had even touched the handle, she was at the passenger door, yanking it
open. “Stacy. At last!” She flung her arms around Stacy’s body and hugged her
tight. “I can’t believe it’s been so long, and we’re only meeting you now.”

A tall, elegant man trailed in
her wake. “I’m Ellie, but you know that,” She spoke so fast it was difficult to
keep up. “And here’s Dermot, Adam’s father.”

Dermot smiled and nodded.
Glanced at his son on the other side of the car. “Come here and give your
mother a hug.”

He snagged Adam on route,
grabbing him close. Patting his back. Muttering words of welcome.

“Son.” Ellie disentangled from
Stacy, and reattached to Adam, like a friendly octopus. “Mohammed wouldn’t come
to the mountain, so…”

“So the mountain took the
trip.” Adam grinned. “I didn’t know you had a key.”

“Sure, wasn’t it where it
always was?” She gestured to the large terracotta pot flanking the front door. “We
thought we’d surprise you.”

Adam sneaked a glance at
Stacy. Raised his eyebrows, in a way that made her have to stifle a laugh. “You
did that.”

“Come in. The kettle’s just
been on. I brought cake and a pie. And a good thing too, by the look of your bare
cupboards.”

Adam placed his hand on the
curve of Stacy’s spine. He hung back, as his parents preceded them into the
house, and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “My mother is a force of nature,
just go with it.” His fingers crept under the hem of her T-shirt. “I’m damned
disappointed not to be alone with you, though.”

Her skin tingled where he
touched, and the urge to climb back into the car with him and check into the
nearest hotel was almost overpowering. “I wish that too.”

Ellie turned at the doorway
with a smile so wide she was almost flashing wisdom teeth. “Come on, you two! I
want to hear all the news!”

Force of nature was a good way
to describe Ellie Logan. She bustled into the kitchen, flicked on the kettle,
and took an apple pie from the oven. The entire house smelled of cinnamon. “Tea?
Pie?” She glanced at her husband. “Grab the cream from the fridge, would you,
Dermot?” She’d taken over, and Adam seemed content enough to let her.

“Could you carry the tray into
the sitting room, Adam?”

“Sure.” He took the tray,
jerked his head to Stacy to follow, and left the room.

“She’s just…”

“She’s at home here.” Adam
threw a piece of turf onto the fire someone had lit in the grate. “This was her
mother’s house. It’s now mine, but this is her first visit, so I guess that
hasn’t sunk in yet. Ma’s not great with boundaries, anyway. She says exactly
what comes into her head, without filtering it first. She’ll probably ask you
all sorts of questions you really don’t want to answer, so if that happens,
just change the subject. She’ll get the hint.”

The door pushed open, and Adam’s
dad walked in, carrying the pie and cream. “I told her we should have waited.
Or at least let you know we were coming. But you know your mother.”

“I know,” Adam said.

“When she spoke to you during
the week, and you said you couldn’t come visit at the weekend, she started
fretting. She just couldn’t wait to see you any longer.” Dermot cast an
apologetic glance at Stacy. “And you’ve only just arrived—you must be
exhausted.”

“I got a good night’s sleep
last night.”

“We’re only staying the night.
If that’s okay with you, Adam.”
Dermot
placed the pie on the coffee table. “I’ll drag her away in the morning.”

“There’s
no need to rush off. Why don’t we get lunch in the pub tomorrow, then you can
drive back in daylight, and stop off somewhere on the way for coffee. It’s a
long enough drive.”

The
door opened again, and Ellie came in with the teapot. “So, what are we talking
about?”

“Plans
for tomorrow.” Dermot filled her in.

“I’m
sorry for visiting without warning.” Ellie’s gaze connected with Stacy’s and
held. “But I just couldn’t bear not seeing Adam for another week. He’s been in
the country for weeks now, and hasn’t made it home. And after he’s spent all
those years in America, I was desperate.”

“It’s
okay, Ma.” Adam poured tea. “Cut the pie.” A corner of his mouth pulled into a
half smile. “Stacy, you’ll never have tasted such good pie, it’s Ma’s
specialty.”

“Ah,
now,” Ellie chided. “I’m sure Stacy’s mother makes pie every bit as good.”

“Uh…”

Adam
jumped in before she could continue. “Stacy’s parents are dead. She has no
other family.”

Ellie
let out a shocked gasp. “I’m so sorry, dear, I had no idea.”

“She
wasn’t one for making pie.” With a tight smile, Stacy tried to lighten the
situation. “What’s in it? Apple?”

“Apple
and blackberry, they’re in season at the moment.” Ellie took Stacy’s lead, and
shifted away from the sensitive subject.

Adam
passed her a plate and spoon, and settled next to her on the sofa. His thigh
brushed against hers, and he rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her.
“So what’s new with everyone?”

She
knew what he was doing. His body heat diffused the inches between them and his
whole manner was protective and supportive. Adam had always been like that.
Always been there for her. She wanted nothing more than to lean into him, to
feel his fingers curve around her shoulder and be held close.

But
they weren’t alone, and giving in to the urge would only make things more
complicated. Would send the wrong message to his parents. So instead, she
obediently ate pie and agreed that it really was the best pie she’d ever eaten.

Over
the next hour, Ellie talked nonstop, cataloguing all of her children’s
achievements and activities. But she didn’t stop there, she also told them
about what Adam’s brother’s wives were doing, his cousin, Sorcha and her
boyfriend, and news of relatives and friends too numerous to count.

In
the midst of such powerful evidence of a strong, united family, Stacey had
never felt more alone in her life.

The
fire’s heat was making her drowsy. She glanced at her watch. 10:30.

“It’s
been a long day—I have to go to bed.” She forced herself up off the chair. “I’ll
see you all tomorrow.”

Everything
he thought he knew about her was a lie.

*****

Stacy
had been quiet since the mention of her mother. Adam searched his memory, had
they ever talked about her parents? He came up empty. Theirs had been a
relationship full of new love, of the joy of learning and sharing positive
things about each other.

In
the buzz of belonging, he’d shared about his family, but she’d been reticent to
speak about hers. Frustration gnawed away at him as she left the room; he
couldn’t let her go without knowing she was okay.

“I’ll
be back in a moment.”

He
reached her just as she was pushing the door open to her bedroom. “Are you
okay?” He stroked the smooth skin of her arm, letting his fingers trace to her
wrist and linking his fingers through hers. “My mother can be difficult to
take.”

“I’m
fine. Just tired. Your parents are lovely.”

There
was a glint in her eyes. Unshed tears?

“We
never talked about your parents.”

She
nodded. “We should. But not now.” She turned into him, and snaked an arm around
his waist. “I wish you could sleep with me tonight.”

“If
I do, they’ll know about it.” He didn’t care if his parents discovered that
their relationship was in the process of reigniting, but she seemed to. He
stroked a finger across her cheekbones, then over her bottom lip. “They’re just
next door, so I won’t be able to make you scream.”

Her
eyes darkened. “I want that. I want you with me, in me. I don’t want to care
about being quiet.”

His
body stirred at her words.

“So
that’s why I’m saying goodnight, and I’ll see you in the morning.” She pressed
her mouth against his in a kiss that rapidly deepened from casual to something
more.

When
they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “They’re leaving
after lunch. I reckon we should get to the pub early tomorrow, before the
crowds set in.”

“Half
past ten?” she teased.

“Twelve.
And not a minute later.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Sleep well,
sweetheart.”

*****

They
shared a leisurely lunch in the pub the following day, and by early afternoon,
Ellie and Dermot were ready to leave.

Standing
at Adam’s side, Stacy waved them off from the pub’s car park. They’d been warm
and welcoming. Genuinely interested in learning more about their ex
daughter-in-law. Lying to them—to him—was wrong.

If
he knows the truth, maybe he won’t want me.

The
thought slithered through her consciousness, making her shoulders tense. She’d
kept the secret so totally for so many years, fear of how he’d react sickened
her.

“What’s
the matter?” Adam walked in front of her. “We’re friends, Stacy. If you’ve
changed your mind about taking the next step, it won’t change anything between
us.” He grimaced. “I can’t say I’ll be happy about it, but I’ll understand.”

“That’s
not it.” She slipped both arms around his waist and hugged him. “Can we get
another drink? I need to talk.”

“Back
inside?” He jerked his head in the direction of the pub which was now full of
patrons eating Sunday lunch and drinking.

“Maybe
out here. It’s more private.”

They
walked around the side of the building. Warm sunlight spilled across the small
circular metal table. Wide beams formed a pergola overhead, and the entire was
swathed in golden-leaved vines.

“Wine?
Gin and tonic?”

“Rum
and Coke.”

“I’ll
be back in a minute.”

She
appreciated his back view as he walked inside. His broad shoulders and cute
butt drew the attention of a couple of women at nearby tables, and she wanted
to stalk over and tell them he was hers. To stop them lusting.

The
emotion shook her. She’d never been like that. Never felt proprietorial when it
came to any man before. Not even Adam when they were married.

She
closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun. Telling him the truth would
change everything. No one wants to learn they’ve been lied to by someone they
loved and trusted. But the alternative—keeping the toxic secret inside—was
unthinkable.

A
shadow darkened the glow behind her closed lids.

She
snapped back to the present. Adam handed her a glass, and sat down. She’d never
been much of a drinker, but she gulped a couple of mouthfuls of liquid courage,
then placed the glass on the table.

Moisture
beaded the glass’s surface. One bead cut a meandering trail downward—like a
tear on a cheek.

Adam’s
hand covered hers. “What is it?.”

“I
lied to you.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper. “My parents are alive.”

He
probably wasn’t even aware that he’d pulled away, and clasped his hands in his
lap. His brow creased. His look of confusion made her ache.. “They’re dead. You
told me…”